Fuzzy

Our first digital photos....





They aren't great. It wasn't a great camera, but boy it cost a pretty penny. I am amazed that I have a much better one now for a quarter of the price of the first one and even it isn't a fancy one.

I remember having a film camera. It was 2001. Now it is 2010. How did that happen? Sometimes I look at my eight year old child and wonder what happened to this little baby. I see myself and remember how I never thought I'd make it through those sleepless nights and scream-filled days. It seems like yesterday, yet at the same time it seems so far away.

Our family has grown in more ways than one since we bought that fuzzy, expensive camera. We're in a different house, in a different neighborhood, in a different town with a different dynamic than that June day. I didn't really see it coming back then, but I like it. Sometimes, though, I'd like to have just one more 2001 day. One more day to enjoy that tiny baby. Kiss his toes, feel his fuzzy hair, rock for hours on end in that old recliner, and sniff his sweet baby smell. Just one more day with that baby knowing what I know about him now.

I miss that baby.

And I wonder if I knew then what I know now about his "condition" if I'd been a better mother to him then.

I wish I could find out.

Sometimes.

My Girl

I was going to write about my New Year's Resolutions today and then I realized, heh, I used the F word twelve hours into the new year during that game and why bother eating healthfully if we're all just destined to disappear in 2012 anyway?

Instead, I'm going to write the post that's been swirling in my head for a while now. The one I've been hesitant to write for fear of upsetting some of my readers. The one that will finally separate me once and for all from all the boymoms in the world. You know, if anyone is actually still reading my drivel.

Can I just say how much I love my daughter?



Oh, I love my boys too. But my daughter? I didn't know what I was missing.

The hairbows....so cute.

The babydolls....so fun.

Shopping on the left side of Carters.....full of the awesomeness.

But the best thing? The best thing is just having her around. She gets me. I get her. I am no longer outnumbered in this house full of testosterone.

I spent my entire pregnancy telling myself that I would adore the little boy that I may have been carrying. I picked him an awesome name (two actually), set up his true blue room, and waited to complete our Y-chromosome heavy family. On the morning my daughter was born, making our way to the hospital in the near-dawn darkness, I cried. I sobbed actually. The whole way there. I cried for my daughter. The one I never thought I'd have. It was a secret between my husband and me, a secret we'd never tell our third son. Then we checked in, got plugged up, and wheeled in to have our baby with smiles on our faces. I was ready to meet our boy, I really was. I knew I loved him, I'd been with him for months. But when that doctor said it was a girl..twice, I cried. I sobbed actually. It was one of the happiest moments of my life.*

In those first weeks after she was born, in my vicodin-induced happy haze, I'd just look at her and thank God for giving me a girl. I'd wake up each morning and remember, OMG! I have a daughter!, and it'd make me just a little happier while swaying and shushing the colic away.

I miss my baby girl, but I love my little girl.

I love how she wants me to comb her hair so she can be bootiful.

I love seeing her baby dolls neatly covered and kept warm.

I love hearing her sing. Anything.

I love it when she kisses her brothers. And I love it more that they kiss her back with so much adoration.

I love the princess costumes, ponytails, and the at-home manicures on itty-bitty nails.

When Santa left his loot under our tree Christmas morning, I teared up seeing the mass of pink at one side. At one time I never thought I'd see that, the things I loved, the things I know, being loved by someone else I love. I loved seeing her ooh and aah over her girly things and I loved even more watching her move to each of her brothers and do the same with them.

I wake up in the morning now and I am no longer surprised to have a girl in my house, but I do give thanks every morning for her. And her brothers too. I cannot even imagine what life wouldn've been like if she'd been a boy. It just seems like Elizabeth was always meant to be with us.

But I still really love shopping on the left side of Carters.


*And because I'm sure someone will wonder, I was happy birthing my other two children, but the first one came eight weeks early and was rushed to the NICU immediately which was very stressful and wondering about him for six hours before anyone told me anything didn't make for a happy morning. When the second one came, I had complications that caused a prolonged postop situation and some crazy drugs that kept me from really knowing what was going on until late that afternoon, so yeah, the third birth, AWESOME.

A Forty-Two Year Tradition....

Christmas Eve photos under the tree...







I'm thinking this is a tradition that needs to end.

A Nice Surprise

I was going to write a long, reflective post about the end of 2009 and the hope that is 2010 this morning, but I was somehow led to check the school calendar yesterday and found that school does not start back until TOMORROW. Good thing I found that out before I dropped my kid off in my pajamas in the 35 degree chill.

So today, I'm taking this unexpected day off and actually spending it with my kids (as soon as Max and Ruby goes off). Trying my darnedest to stick to those resolutions.

Hope you all had a wonderful holiday.

Happy New Year.

Merry Christmas!

Tis the Season for Packages on Your Doorstep

Look what the UPS man brought us me!!

Can it get any better than this? My favorite food. At my door step.

Life is sooo good.



Check it out. Little red crinkly things. LITTLE RED CRINKLY THINGS! With my favorite food. It does get better.



Thank you Miss Tracey. You made my day!



And be sure to check out Tracey's review blog so your kid can get this excited on a regular old weekday too. Who knows? You might even win the cool Squeeballs Nintendo DS game giveaway she's doing right this very minute. You know, if you want to ruin Jacob's day and keep me from winning it.

I Wish I Lived in Iowa Today

So I hear ya'll are having a blizzard....

We had one too. Last Friday. In Houston. It was cold. The Christmas party I'd been looking forward to for months was cancelled. Schools dismissed early. Milk and bread flew off the supermarket shelves. The local networks ran a constant feed of breaking snow news all morning.



If you look very closely, you'll see my boys through the near white-out conditions. This was at it's very worst.

Seriously, though, Houston got some snow last week. Twice I looked out the window and saw huge falling snowflakes, I think you Yankees call them "flurries". Places west and north of us got a little accumulation too. We. Did not. Too close to the coast, I guess. Too warm for anything to stick. We. Were very disappointed.

I used to live up north. I twice missed school the entire month of February due to snow and ice and then some ice and snow. One year I drove home for Christmas across the southern part of Virginia through the Appalachians with the radio announcers telling me if I didn't have anywhere to be not to venture out. My car spun five circles that day. I made it home though. I still don't know how. Dear Mr. Channel 2 Guy, what I witnessed THAT day was a white-out. There was no white out here, but thanks for staying positive.

I chuckle a little when I watch Texas prepare for snow. It's sweet, actually. When I was a northerner I took for granted every year that it would snow. I knew we'd get a day off eventually. Non-sticking flurries were old hat. Accumulation meant shoveling and the thought of driving anywhere in that would evoke grumbles from all around. Here in Texas, EVERYONE gets excited for snow. Any snow. Or even sleet for that matter. It just so rarely happens.

Yes. We were disappointed to have no tiny snowman. No weak snowballs. But we revelled in our ten minutes of flurries. Because that's all we could get.

I'm thinking of all you blizzard survivors today. Been there, done that. Just not in a very long time so I am quite jealous. Be safe. Stay warm. Enjoy your piles of snow for me.

And I'll enjoy my 65 degrees and sunshine for you.

The Santa Saga

*Read quickly because I'll be erasing this soon. My kid knows how to log on and access my blog. And he can read, dammit.*

Before we started a family, Derick and I discussed how we'd do holidays. Basically, all the holidays would be spent with my family since his family doesn't really care and we would not insult the intelligence of our children by introducing them to imaginary figures such as The Easter Bunny and Santa Claus. I mean, what decent parent LIES to their child?

That was before we passed St. Nicholas in the mall with our eight month old baby. That colicky, unhappy baby who lit right up seeing him sitting there all ho, ho, ho jolly and stuff.



So we figured, eh, he's little, we can do it this year.

And then we remembered my sister's kids, well, they also loved Santa so we kept it up, you know, to keep peace and harmony in the family.

And then the second child came and, well, how unfair would that be to let the oldest one enjoy Santa and not the youngest one, I mean, we are all about the fairness.




And the third one came, and although Santa's lap is quite full, we couldn't deny her either so here we are. For a family that wasn't going to do Santa, we sure have done up the Santa. And the Easter Bunny too, but that's an entirely different story.



But. The kids get older. And smarter. And they start to listen more. And then Mommy starts to panic.

So Jacob goes to a Christian school and most of the families there have chosen as we once did not to celebrate the secular themes of the holiday and instead focus on the true meaning of the season. There's a reason for the season? Really? I kid, I kid.

Anyway, these kids are starting to talk. In the past month, my son, my tiny baby son, has come home feeling so very sorry for three different boys who say they do not believe and he fears they will wake up with nothing on Christmas morning. He wants to buy them some Legos so they'll have something under the tree. Isn't that sweet?

While walking through the Wally World last week, one nasty old bitty had the loudest phone conversation about whether or not the person on the other end of the line should tell her child THERE IS NO SANTA. I bumped her a little with my cart. Did I mention I HATE listening to others talking on the phone. Go home. Talk there. Bah.

And now Target has this stupid ass commercial on all day where the dad gets upset at the mom when she unwraps her big screen tv and goes on and on incessantly about Santa not realizing there's a recession and Mom tells him that Santa knows how to shop.

Um, yeah. My kid. He gets innuendo. Who'd a thunk?

I see him standing there watching it. I see the gears moving in his head. I watch him stop what he's doing to catch again fifteen minutes later. The gears....still moving.

Why do that Target? Everytime I see it, the less I like you.

My kid. He doesn't ask any questions. I think he already knows the answers. It's sad really.

Sometimes I regret our decision to just go with it.

Then I see the delight in their faces when they see Santa every year.

And clear a path away from the fireplace.

And leave cookies and reindeer food and, for the past two years, a gift, bought with his own money because Santa needs a present too. FYI: Santa's getting a Lego Santa keychain. For the sleigh keys. Or the workshop. Whichever.

Santa will bring everything my kids have asked for this year. Even the very expensive Lego set he can't really afford. We're going to do it up this year. And we're going to enjoy every minute while we can.

A Helpful Hint

If you find yourself in a salon and you notice your stylist smells a tad bit like stale beer and a funny kind of smoke and if she happens to say "I think I did it right?" when giving what should be the world's easiest hair cut....

Run. Take the hair cover smocky thingie with you if you must.

Trust me.

I am hoping Santa brings me a wig for Christmas.

I Was Just Making Sure They Were Paying Attention

It's been a long afternoon.

After falling asleep watching Toy Story 2 for the five thousandth twentieth time, I woke up just in time to find we needed to get in the car QUICK to pick up Jacob. Thank you Elizabeth for writing on my face with the blue ball point pen or I might still be lying there.

By the time I strapped my two diaper/underwear clad preschoolers into their safety seats, I was already ten minutes late. The light at the middle school up the street put me behind another five. Dang kids wanting to GO HOME by CROSSING THE STREET!

When I pulled into the school I was already late enough to have to wait for every. single. highschooler to cross the driveway or just stand their gabbing while I wait-wait-waited and I swear I never thought about plowing them down inching into them little by little to MAYBE get them to mosey out of the fricking street.

As I finally pulled around the back of the building where my child should have been seething waiting, he wasn't there. I quickly scanned through the eight kids left sitting and he was nowhere to be found. I pulled my car up to see if he was sitting behind a pole. Wasn't there either. The duty teacher came over panic-stricken and asked if Jacob had rode home with a friend by mistake. I proceeded to flip out and wonder out loud, DID YA'LL JUST PUT MY KID IN SOMEONE ELSE'S CAR? And my heart started to pound through my ears and that Frito chili pie I had for lunch started moving on up.

So I parked my car, released my almost naked children, and headed for the building, or the office, or the classroom, or who knows where I was going? My kid was MISSING!

And as I blew past that duty teacher, she just happened to say, "Could he be in a help class?"

And then it dawned on me.

I signed my kid, that one I was so worried about, the one I apparently remember nothing about, up for the after-school algebra (seriously, algebra, in third grade!) help class his teacher offered in a note the night before.

I wasn't late. He was late. And now I was early. So. Very. Early. Standing like a crazy person with two almost-naked children out in the kinda-sorta-you might say it's chilly weather. With blue pen marks on my face.

Ummm....yeah.

And I wonder why some of those mothers make fun of me.

Iowa

On page 57...



I had planned to take pictures of the entire cooking process but my MIL was pretty much all over me the entire time and since she called and told everyone back home how I took photos of my finished meals making me sound like a complete doofus you're all lucky to get this one.

But I really wanted Sherry to see what Tall Corn Pork Chili (a.k.a Iowa Chili) looks like.

I'll post this recipe, and all other chili recipes, on my recipe blog. You can find it here.

This chili was a hit with everyone at the table* except me. I couldn't even finish the bowl. The chili had pork, which I love, but also corn. Lots of corn. While I LOVE corn on the cob and completely separate as a side dish on a plate, I DO NOT like corn in my soups or chilis. I don't know why, I just don't like it that way. Everyone else, though, thought it was awesome and my MIL took the recipe home with her.

Next up, after Thanksgiving: Wisconsin Green Bay Chili for Kelly.



*And by everyone at the table I mean everyone except Adam and Elizabeth who pretty much exist only on yogurt and very rarely eat an offered meal.

It Was Too Funny Not to Share

So my mother-in-law is here.

I am glad to say she no longer smokes which has really, really made her stay a tad more bearable. But. She's my mother-in-law. She doesn't like me. She tolerates the children. And quite honestly, it's a little like living with my grandmother. When she was 90. And sort of senile.

She does things like leave her fifteen or so non-childproof lidded medicines all over the house. She tries to let my INSIDE cat out. She takes Elizabeth outside and then comes in without her. She hovers over me while I cook, tastes my creations without being offered, and then puts the spoon back into the pot. Yum. She takes my wet laundry out of the washer and piles it in a basket so she can push hers through (now I see where her son gets it). She barges in my room when the door is closed demanding things...pencils, soup, toothpaste, and now this very time, rubberbands.

She also uses every. single. bathroom. in our house. Now, I set her all up in the main upstairs bathroom when she arrived and pretty much made it clear that, hey now, this is where YOU do your business. WE. Will use the other THREE bathrooms. Why yes, I am a wonderful hostess for assuring your absolute privacy during your stay.

Um. Yeah.

One day this week she walked in on poor Adam and demanded to know if he was done yet. He now calls her Stinky. The boy does love his privacy.

She walked into our master bath right past me Farkling on the Facebook last night in bed. I'm guessing I should have said something, but she's done this before and I figured my husband would just get mad if I said anything to her, so I let it go. I mean, it's weird, but harmless, right? RIGHT?

This morning my husband was taking a shower in our master bathroom. I was lying in bed twittering and Facebooking and generally hiding out from HER, when she came shuffling right into the bedroom. Our bathroom does not lock as it has two push doors that rate a ten in attractiveness, yet two on functionability. I mean, I have three kids. I WANT my bathroom to lock, but I digress. It will never lock and I want to finish my story.

So, anyway, where was I?

Oh, SHE came shuffling into my bedroom and I knew where she was heading so I kindly told her that, "Um, Derick's in the shower right now. You can't go in there." to which she replied, not even looking at me, "I won't look at him". And I'm guessing at that point I should've gotten up and led her out of the room or something but I was just so completely dumbfounded I just sat there. And then she did it. She opened both doors and waltzed right into that bathroom while my husband was naked and whistling.

And then he was screaming.

But you know what? She didn't leave. She went into the separate toilet room to do her business and then walked right back out completely oblivious to all the four letter words coming out of her son's mouth directed right at her.

And I. I had to pull the covers up over my head because I could not stop laughing. In fact, when I think about it now, four hours later, I laugh some more, because Oh. My. Gawd. It was just that funny.

Ho, Ho, HA!

Awww...What happened to my sweet little baby girl?



She's been overtaken by demons or aliens, that's what has happened.

Elizabeth is two and a half now. She hit them a little late, but the terrible twos, oh my dear Lord, the terrible twos are soooo terrible!

Yesterday I ran into the store to pick up only some sour cream and it was a full out fit from the time I loaded her into the car until she conked out in the pick-up line at Jacob's school. I'm still waiting on the CPS to arrive as the man behind me assured me he'd be calling them because, obviously, he's never had any children.

Today, I so stupidly took my three little devils angels to get their pictures taken. Christmas pictures. In the most beautiful little Christmas outfits. In front of the sweetest little Christmas background just so I can show every one I know just how gorgeous my children are we can spread lots of Christmas cheer this year.

You know it's bad when the nice photographer lady refers to them as hellions.

Oh, the boys were pretty good, I got a couple of nice shots of THEM together. She even asked if maybe I wanted to send a card out with just the boys. *sigh*

Elizabeth = Birth Control

She would not sit, she would not stand, she would not smile.

And then she threw a fit. The holy mother of all fits.

In front of the eye-rolling lady who swooped in and took my 10 a.m. appointment and then still hadn't chosen her pictures during our FORTY-FIVE minute appointment making us stand and wait with our screaming child that. much. longer.

I mean, really, an hour to choose your pictures? How hard can that be.

That was three hours ago. I am still shaking.

But at least I have some lovely Christmas cards of my boys.

And my boys and my MIL. The MIL who so elegantly wore her PAJAMAS to the photo shoot even after we bought her a new outfit to wear for them.

Just drop me an email with your home address if you'd like one in your mailbox this year.

Because, there ain't no way in hell I'm attempting this again.

Stuff

I have so much I want to write and so little time to write it. I considered doing NaBloPoMo, but I KNEW I'd NEVER be able to keep up with it, so I'll just touch on some of it in a condensed post.

*Jacob has really matured this year. We're still dealing with anger issues and that whole meds-wore-off business at the end of the day, but at school he's stellar. Last night was the third grade musical (I made it this time!). It was nice and he did well, but I was more impressed with the new boy who approached me at the end to introduce himself and tell me how glad he was that Jacob was his friend. Last year, his friends hid from him because they didn't want the others to know they were friends. This year, at least five kids made an effort to tell Jacob good-bye or give him a high five and one made plans to meet early today to discuss all things Mario. You know I cried on the ride home. I credit his teacher. She has really boosted his confidence and just boosted him to all those around him. She's making him cool. I love her.

*My MIL arrives on Sunday. Time to get out the Febreeze. I think God has a sense of humor because Hurricane Ida is heading our way also. And don't forget all the swine flu she's bound to come in contact with on her three day train ride. My husband came home with a large bottle of scotch. Enough said. (You can read my past MIL experiences in November 2008 and 2007. Please pray for me)

*My friend is doing okay. She's getting things together and figuring out the next steps. Last night she logged into her husband's computer and found a ton of pictures of him and the boys from a few days before his death and it hit her hard. I want to fly up RIGHT NOW and be there with her, but as she only got three days bereavement leave she had to use the rest of her vacation time and she wants me to wait until she's accrued some more to fly up. I'm just trying to do what I can through the phone and computer. If anyone has any suggestions on what else I can do, pass it my way, because I feel like a useless friend just sitting here.

*I'm having a jewelry party. I hate those things, but my friend is just starting out as a consultant and I wanted to help her out. I am pretty put out, though, at all those "friends" I bought Pampered Chef, Discovery Toys, USborne Books, Stamping Up, Longaberger, Homemade Gourmet, Tastefully Simple, Premier Jewelry, Tupperware, and Creative Memories from who won't even respond to me. So far...no sales whatsoever. Thank you fake party friends.

*This is how Elizabeth entertains herself these days:



I'm just too old and tired to do anything about it. It buys me some floor mopping/bed-making/bathtub scrubbing time. Sure would be nice to win some diapers now.

*Christmas is 49 days away. Any suggestions on a "big" girl gift? I am lost on the whole girly thing. Once I find it, I'll be done with my kid shopping. Of course, my boys changed their lists now, but, oh well. They're just going to have to take what they get.

*We did Halloween without spending a dime. You might recognize the costumes.



And after that picture=taking fiasco, you'll be happy to know that Penneys will be taking our Christmas pictures this year. I give up.

*Next up on my chili tour....Iowa. Tall Corn Pork Chili for Sherry.

Proud

I have cried all day....



Do you know what it's like to have another mother tell your kid he's too weird to play with her kid?

Do you know what it's like to have another mother yell at your kid because he "just won't shut up"?

Do you know what it's like to be asked to leave Gymboree because the other mothers are "scared" of your kid?

Do you know what it's like for your kid to be kicked out of Mother's Day Out because the teachers "just can't handle him"?

Do you know what it's like to lose "friends" because they no longer want their child exposed to your "weird" child?

Do you know what it's like to have adults laugh at your kid?

Well, I do. And it's not fun.

But today was full of the fun. I turned around and looked at some of those mothers while doing a little dance when my son was called up to accept his award for second-highest average in his class this grading period. After missing it by a point the past two years, he finally made it.

I've always known Jacob was smart. Now the rest of them know it too.

Elizabeth's View Part 1

Chili Nation

I love chili. Love, love, love chili. If I go out somewhere and they offer it, I'll usually order it, at least a small cup just to try it. There are some I like more than others, but really, all chili is good.

Ten years ago when I had tons of extra throw away income I joined a cook book club. I had to buy SIX in a year, but I got, like, eight free. Most of those I've given away or sold in garage sales, but I still have my very dog-eared copy of Chili Nation. . Chili Nation has a chili recipe representing each of the 50 states.

I haven't opened it in a while, preferring to find my chili recipes online, but when I unpacked it from a long lost box a few weeks ago I got to thinking. In all these years I've had that book, I've only used three of the recipes. Three? How can it be? So I decided then and there that I was going to try every. single. recipe* in that book. I was going to make chili once a week, but my husband, he doesn't like chili as much as I do. So, I'm just going to wing it and make chili when it sounds good.

Two weeks ago was one of those times.

I made the Arkansas chili because I was craving McClards BBQ and that recipe was a copycat on the Tamale-BBQ spread that is so absolutely fabulous.




Mmmmm. McClards. There's nothing else like it, but it takes nine hours to get there. Seriously. If you ever find yourself driving through Hot Springs, Arkansas. You MUST stop there. You won't be sorry.

Anyway. A couple weeks ago I set about making the Hot Springs Chili-Tamale Spread. The recipe called for homemade tamales and I was like, BWAHAHAHA! I live in TEXAS. There's plenty of tamale trucks and authentic Mexican grandmas who KNOW how it's done. And, low and behold, HEB had fresh ones on sale that week. So there ya go.

So I had my tamales. Check. Then I needed to make the chili.



Check.

After the chili was done, 45ish minutes later, I made the spread.

I spread the tamales in a row in a casserole dish and covered them with the chili. I then topped that with a ton of shredded Cheddar and chopped green onions. Then I baked that for 20 minutes and then served each portion with a huge helping of corn chips. Just like McClards. Mmmmm....McClards.

But. I have no pictures of my actual very beautiful Chili-Tamale Spread. Because as soon as it came out of the oven my husband cut into it and it was pretty much completely devoured in a half hour. Nothing left. Nothing.

It wasn't McClards, but it was good. Oh, it was good.

So, Chili Experiment State One, ARKANSAS, was a four thumbs up. Adam gave it a thumbs down, but Adam eats only sliced ham and yogurt without a fight, so he's not a good judge.

If you want the recipe, let me know and I'll add it in a separate post.

Tonight I'm taking my chili journey to OHIO. Cincinnati Chili. Mmmmmm.

If there's a state you want me to try, leave a comment. *The only states I refuse to make are Colorado (venison, no access to that) and Maryland (crab! Ewwww.)

Oink

So....

Who's getting the swine flu vaccine?

Are your children getting it too?

We are on opposite sides of the fence here and it may likely come to blows or much time spent in divorce court.

I apparently am living with the world's foremost expert in the subject and all truth comes only from him. Glory, Hallelujah.

I would love to hear someone else's view on this for a change.

Kroger, We're Breaking Up.

I hate Kroger.

Why do I keep going there? Oh sure, they have double and triple coupons and sometimes I can come home with some free food, but is it really worth the hassle that I get every. single. time I go there?

I'm starting to think that's a no.

I am on a grocery budget and I follow it carefully. I buy what is on sale and we go from there. It makes life interesting because the kids never know what kind of snacks they're going to receive and Jacob rarely takes the same lunch twice.

Although I am not allowed to grocery shop until October 15th, I went today anyway because Kroger had some produce on sale and I needed two cans of beans to make some chili. I figured I could use my birthday cash and get out of there under thirty bucks. It was more like fifty bucks and I stuck to my list. It wasn't until I returned home that I realized all that produce I thought I was getting at the sale price, was priced wrong. All of it. My 87 cent red leaf lettuce was $2.49. My 99 cent green beans were $2.49 a pound, 4 buck for those beans. My 88 cent apples were $1.49. And my $1.77 strawberries were $2.99. That. Is just unexceptable.

I know you're wondering how I missed all that. Well, Kroger has some weird wonky computer check out system where the item rings up at full price but then it subtracts the amount you should save. It is extremely frustrating trying to do all that double and triple digit math in my head while the checker is scanning fast enough to beat Mach 1. And? I had two cart diving kids with me. And I had to bag my own groceries. So, yeah, I missed that intentional error blunder.

I swear, I've gone to Kroger since we moved here, although rarely more than once a month just for this reason. I even go to a different Kroger now that we've moved and it's the same damn thing. I admit I've gotten sucked in to their coupon/sale deals, but I don't think I can do it anymore. I mean, it's now pouring down the rain outside and I need to drive all the way back to that place, take my kids out of the car, drop them into another swine flu laden cart, and attempt to get my bill fixed. I've done this before. They usually fight with me. Or give me a load of shit for not catching it while I was in the store to which I say....UM...isn't it Kroger's job to get the prices right?

My guess? They misprice the things on purpose. Most people don't go through their receipt with a fine tooth comb like I do. I've even been in the check out and pointed out to people in front of me that their items are ringing wrong and they just don't care. Must be nice for those people, but I don't have hundreds of bucks available to just throw away once a week. I think the stupid computer is part of their plan and the fast checkers are taught to go that quickly so you can't catch the mistakes.

I love HEB. The checkers aren't running a race. Their computer shows only the price they are going to charge you. I have never, NEVER, had anything ring up wrong there.

Sorry, Kroger. I know some people think you're the best grocery store ever, but I've given you a butt load of chances and you're just not doing it for me. Maybe you're meant to be with someone else. I just can't continue feeling this way every time we get together. I tried, really I did. But it's time for me to move on and commit to HEB. Yes, I'll miss those 49 cent Vitamin Water weeks and it will be hard to live without my Big K Vanilla Cola, but I can do it. I HAVE to do it. Not only for me, but for my budget. And my sanity.

RIP

Dear Rich,

Thank you for being a good husband to my best friend and an even better father to your children. You are loved and missed.


Richard E. Robinson, 40, of Fairmont, formerly of Charleston, passed away on October 4, 2009, the result of a motorcycle accident.
He was a regional sales manager for Chick Packaging and a graduate of Stonewall Jackson High School.

Rich's goal in life was to bring joy to others; in doing so he was rewarded by the pleasure of helping those around him. Rich had a wonderful spirit for living and always saw positive opportunities under every circumstance. Rich's laughter was contagious.

Rich's true love in life was his wife, Jennifer, and their children. Jennifer helped him appreciate life to the fullest and to become a better person. His best friends were his sons, Nathan and William, who looked up to their dad as being their “hero.”

He was preceded in death by both parents, Richard and Orma Robinson; and his son, Jack.

He is survived by his wife, Jennifer Robinson of Fairmont; two sons, Nathan and William; and sister, Susanne Cole, her husband, Steve, and their daughter, Sydney, of Pittsburgh, Pa. Also surviving him are his mother- and father-in-law, Nelson and Joyce Jennings of New Martinsville.

Memorial service will be 1 p.m. Thursday, October 8, at Barlow-Bonsall Funeral Home.

Visitation will be held from 6 to 8 p.m. Wednesday and one hour prior to the service at the funeral home on Thursday.

In lieu of flowers donations may be made to the Richard Robinson Memorial Fund for his two children, c/o Jennifer Robinson, P.O. Box 3220, Clarksburg, WV 26302.